Cursed

Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey consulted with Luna and Hermione, and Jack watched over their shoulders as they came up with a plan for testing Ianto’s magic, as well as a re-training schedule.  The first week was very light, with only a few hours a day devoted to anything structured so Ianto could continue to rest and recover as much as possible.

Two hours after breakfast found the Hogwarts professors casting runes and evaluating Ianto’s person as well as his magic in an attempt to determine what was the same and how much had changed.  He would then go out with Jack and his old classmates and wander the grounds.  They all made sure to stop often, to help Ianto pace himself.  After lunch, another hour of evaluation was followed by a rest in their rooms before everyone met back up for the evening meal.

There was a lovely common room at the end of the guest wing, and the evenings spent there quickly became one of Jack’s favorite times (other than warm snuggles to fight off the morning chill, or walking hand-in-hand across the grounds, or a bit of afternoon delight when they returned to their rooms, or the whispered conversations in the velvet darkness before sleep claimed them).  And he reveled in Ianto’s joy in rebuilding the friendships he thought he had lost, even as Jack continued to build his own connections with them.

When the friends weren’t whiling away the evenings in conversation, remembering old adventures or recounting new ones since their paths had diverged, they were playing all the wizarding games that Jack had learned, decades before.  As a muggle, he could only play those games with a witch or wizard, and it had been a long time since he’d had any magical friends, so he was a bit rusty, but he caught up quickly.

His favorite was, as it turned out, Ianto’s, as well.  Neville had been dreadful at chess, but Ianto was a brilliant opponent.  And on evenings when another of his friends was occupying him, Ron was always willing to give Jack a trouncing.  Jack was pleased to see that he and Ianto were evenly matched, but Ron won more games against each of them than he lost.

***

They had been there a week when, as Sunday night melted into Monday morning, Ianto gently extricated himself from Jack’s embrace and rose from their bed.  Jack kept still and watched as the moonlight danced across Ianto’s pale skin while he pulled on a pair of pyjama bottoms.  He looked beautiful like this.  Jack’s breath caught as Ianto crossed in front of the window, his pale skin practically glowing in the light streaming in through the partially opened curtains.

Jack frowned as he continued to watch his lover.  Ianto was now lacing up his boots.  He had been restless all day, jokingly blaming the full moon.  Now Jack began to wonder if it had actually been a joke.  Something felt… different.

As soon as Ianto slipped out of the room, Jack rose and hurriedly dressed in a pair of track pants and his boots, and grabbing his greatcoat, he followed his lover out of the castle and across the grounds to the Forbidden Forest.  

He couldn’t have said why he was following Ianto, other than he had felt that restlessness as his own all evening, and he was as eager to walk it off as Ianto was.  He would catch him up in a bit, but for now, he followed, vaguely wondering why the younger man was venturing into the forest now when he had shown no inclination to do so during any of their daytime walks.  For his part, Jack had – perhaps foolishly – assumed that because it was called the “Forbidden” forest, it was off limits.

Something shifted along their bond, the restlessness being replaced by anticipation and eagerness, and Jack picked up his pace as soon as Ianto was properly in the woods.  He tried to contain his shock when Ianto took off running.  This was no quick trot; nor was it jogging; Ianto was flat out sprinting – running headlong through the darkest reaches of the forest.  Joy and exhilaration thrummed along their bond, and Jack heard a snatch of wild laughter as he struggled to keep Ianto in sight.

He tamped down his worry over his lover overexerting himself.  He felt echoes of whatever was pulling Ianto deeper into the forest; it was irresistible, but it did not feel dangerous.  Jack wasn’t sure how he knew this, but it was an instinct almost as deep as the one telling Ianto where to run – and Jack where to follow.

Ianto ran for a quarter of an hour before stopping in a clearing bathed in the light of the full moon, which looked impossibly close in the clear skies above them.  A stone circle stood proudly, its monoliths set as silent sentinels along the boundary between the trees and the clearing, which was only a few hundred feet across. 

Ianto collapsed onto his back in the soft grass, laughing giddily as he tried to catch his breath.  Jack stopped at the tree line beside one of the stones, his instincts telling him to allow whatever was about to happen to unfold without his participation.

He didn’t have to wait for very long.  After only a few minutes, they came, picking their way carefully into the clearing.  The moonlight shining off of their coats made an ethereal glow.  An entire blessing of unicorns, and the sight was so beautiful that Jack found his face wet with tears.  Part of that was down to the joy he felt radiating along his bond with Ianto.  He startled as he realized he could hear them, as well.

Human child!

At long last…

Welcome! 

Our sister’s child has come to us!

Welcome, child!

“You know me?” Ianto asked, sitting up but otherwise staying very still, allowing the creatures to approach him.  There were five of them, and each approached Ianto and lowered its head to his upraised hand, allowing him to stroke a muzzle, cheekbone, or jaw.  He listened intently as they ‘spoke’, noting that while their telepathic voices blended together in a lovely harmony in his mind, each individual voice could be heard and understood.

We felt our sister’s capture.

We felt her pain.

We felt her despair at being used to harm you.

We felt her love for you when you tried to comfort her, even as you suffered.

And we felt her hope renewed as she realized that you would be her legacy.

“Me?” Ianto looked confused.

She died without issue; and yet, her blood flows in your veins.  According to the rules of our kind, you are one of us.

Our sister’s legacy.

Our sister’s child.

Our child.

One of our own.

“Thank you,” he breathed, thrilled and humbled and incredibly grateful.  “She saved me, in so many ways.”

She granted you the gifts of our kind.

You are one of us, now.

Our sister’s legacy.

Our sister’s child.

Our child.

“What gifts?” Ianto asked.  “What does it mean, for me to be one of you?”

You will always be welcome here.

You feel the lure of the full moon.

You know when someone is being false.

You sense danger, though that will not always mean you can avoid it.

These things are not new, child, but they will be stronger, now that your magic is unbound.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t free her,” Ianto sobbed, the memories flooding his mind.  At the edge of the clearing, Jack fell to his knees, overpowered by the force of Ianto’s guilt and grief.  One of the unicorns lowered her head and nuzzled Ianto’s cheek.

Hush, child.  You could not have freed her.  That was her fate, and she faced it with grace.

Grace because you gave her hope, child.  There is no greater gift. 

Our suffering is greatest where there is no hope.

You gave her hope.

You gave her a legacy.

“How?” he asked, confused.

You should not have survived.

The changes the dark ones wrought should have killed you.

It should have been too much.

And yet, you survived.  Not only what the dark ones did to you, but our sister’s blood.

It is the rarest of things, to survive having our blood forced.

It is different if it is not forced; but that way is perversion and madness.

But you survived. 

You accepted.  It is the only explanation.

You accepted, and you became.

You became her legacy.

“What does that mean?” Ianto asked, straightening.  “What is required of me?”

It is a gift.

It is a boon.

There are no requirements, child.

It simply means that a part of her lives on, in you.

That is her legacy.

“I am so grateful,” Ianto nodded.  “Is there anything else I need to know?”

All of the gifts we have already mentioned.

With your magic restored, your instincts will be sharper.

You will feel the phases of the moon and the seasons more strongly.  That is why you needed to run tonight.

The lure of the moon.

The full moon makes our hearts thrum.  Physical exertion takes on an added dimension.

“I felt that as I ran here,” Ianto admitted.  He was trying not to think about how other forms of physical exertion might feel.  He had fallen asleep on Jack earlier, after a long game of chess with Ron, so he had not yet had the opportunity to test that.  He was brought back to the conversation as the unicorns continued to speak.

Human legacies have been rare among our kind. 

There are few circumstances in which it can happen.

There are few circumstances in which the child has survived.

We cannot be forced unless accepted, and then it is not forced.

Acceptance is key, but you suffered greatly under the imbalance caused by our sister’s blood.

Ianto ducked his head, feeling that he would appear ungrateful if he agreed.

Let there be no shame in truth, child.

We have felt your suffering.

It is ironic that only the blood of the brute can restore balance.

Balance between purity and power.

You will have more control of your gifts once you have fully achieved that balance.

“You mean I haven’t?” Ianto asked, dismayed.  The pain of the fever caused by the dragon’s blood was still too fresh for him not to feel dread at the thought of there being more to it.

Your magic has been restored, child.

Balance can only be achieved if magic acts as the scales.

Our sister’s legacy has settled.

Once the blood of the brute settles as well, the balance will be struck.

Your potential will unfold.

“What does that mean?” Ianto asked, dread washing through him.

Do not fret or fear, child.

All will be well.

The pain of each integration has passed.

Only the settling remains.

Has tonight’s settling pained you?

“No,” Ianto admitted, relieved.

All will be well, child.

It is your fate.

It is your destiny.

Our sister’s legacy.

Our sister’s child.

“Can you tell me what you mean by my potential?” Ianto asked.

A myriad or more of love and magic.

You have been bound in multiple ways your entire life.  Unbound, now.

Unfettered.

Powerful.

Our sister’s legacy and the brute’s power will assist you.

“Assist me,” Ianto frowned, “How?”

Humans are not meant for lifetimes measured in myriads.

But fate knew you would step in to save your mate.

And fate takes care of its own.

Blood of the innocent for one pure of heart.

Blood of the brute for one fierce of soul.

Magic unfettered, the scales upon which it all will balance.

The trifecta of power will help you endure.

Nay, will help you thrive.

And will help you to allow your joy.

And through your bond, your mate, as well.

“My mate?” Ianto asked, tasting the word and savoring it.  Joy spiked along the bond, and neither man could tell whose it was.  In the end, it didn’t really matter.  It was theirs.

He may join you, if you both wish it.

He is welcome.

Our human child.

Our human children.

Our sister’s legacy.

Ianto looked around and saw Jack at the edge of the clearing.  The older man was crouched by one of the stones, watching the proceedings from a respectful distance.  Ianto held out his hand, and Jack rose and slowly approached.  When he was close enough, he took Ianto’s hand and knelt beside him.  He brushed his lips across Ianto’s knuckles, the warmth of his breath causing the younger man to shiver.

“Thank you for welcoming us,” Jack said, his voice low and reverent.

Our sister’s child.

And his mate.

Our own, now.

Part of our blessing.

Part of us.

Each unicorn approached and lowered its head.  Ianto and Jack both stroked their muzzles and thanked them.  The last one lowered her head and slowly kept lowering it so that her horn grazed over Ianto’s chest, just above his heart.  He jolted.  She did the same to Jack, who shuddered violently.

Our sister’s legacy.

Our sister’s love.

Our children.

Our own.

Ours.

It felt like a benediction.

***